


Tempered

by Sildominarin



Category: Emelan - Tamora Pierce
Genre: First Impressions, Frostpine is Kind, Smithing, mentor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 23:02:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8121031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sildominarin/pseuds/Sildominarin
Summary: There are fundamental moments in every persons life, moments when the course of everything changes. For Dedicate Frostpine, one stands out among the rest.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alianne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alianne/gifts).



> The prompt was for a character centric story, and I started off with every intention to write about Daja....which I did. Then I got to the end and realized that somehow the viewpoint had changed, but I like how it turned out.

At first, the girl in the doorway is just that.

A girl, dark skinned and broad shouldered, standing silhouetted by the evening sun and watching with the same curiosity as many who pass through the workshops. Frostpine has always had an appreciation for craftsmanship, no matter who's it is, and has never begrudged the occasional bystander who pauses to watch him work. Gone are the days when such things bothered him, and Winding Circle has ever been a place of learning and freedom. If a dedicate or apprentice has a few free moments in their day and chooses to spend them captivated by forge fires, he is the last person who is going to stop them.

The fires and metals of the place call him often enough to make any judgement hypocrisy anyway, and in truth he shares their wonder. There is nothing like the sing of the metals, the promise of creation and the excited pulse, deep in his chest, of the magic that came to him as simple as breathing. It was a hard thing to explain, even to himself, and he was glad that most visitors simply wanted to watch metal cascade from crucible to mold in a bright hissing stream.

And such people are occasionally useful, especially when his hands are full, and this girl is no different. The work he is doing on the hinge isn't overly complex, but the magic does not like interruptions, and he prefers to complete such projects all at once. The request to fetch the fuller hammer is a simple thing, easy for even a non-smith to accomplish with the right description, and Frostpine is grateful when- after only a few moments- the girl returns to his side with the correct tool. Her interest is obvious, and he can't help but smile at her as he reaches a broad hand out for the hammer.

And almost drops it, when she offers it.

Over the years, Frostpine has crafted all of his own tools. Every hammer and wedge and screw press has been made by his own hands, to match the low resonance of his touch and his magic. He could use other tools with no difficulty- he would be a poor smith and selfish besides if he could not-, but having the elements of his trade tuned so perfectly to him gives an advantage to even the simplest job. He knows these objects with his eyes closed, is convinced he could find them on a dark night by touch alone. But when he takes the hammer, it is not quietly humming with his own notes. It is singing, high and pure and excited. Like gold or copper if he is not stern with it.

And it is not just the hammer. All the metal in his shop has taken notice of the her, calling to her magic to shape it, to forge them into new forms. It is obvious that she cannot hear them even as- after his invitation to look around while he finished the hinge and gathered his wits- the competed pieces on the table sang in delight at her presence. And her comment on the runes dancing beneath the metal- a simple thing 

It reminds him, in some ways, of the first time he had walked into the smith after the headman died.Then the very air had seemed to sing to him, tools melting into slag in his hands and the metal all but screaming for him to work it. E'd been frightened of his power, so long held from him, and it had taken years to learn even the basic mechanics of smith work. The mastery of magic had taken loner, learnedby more trial than error. The idea of finding someone who shared his gift, someone who was young enough to be a proper apprentice age and not be denied the learning that was needed to control that power...

She isn't wearing apprenice whites or the color of a dedicate, though the red of her clothing decieves him at first. She is garbed in Trader red, mourning colors, and the blank brass cap tells a harsh story for those who know how to read it. Trangshi, bad luck to her people and cast out to live in Winding Circle. One of Niko's recent acquisitions and,he suddenly recalls from bathhouse gossip, one of the newest members of Discipline house. That explains the magic then, and the lack of defining colors.

Curiouser and curiouser.

He invites the girl- Daja Kisubo, as it turns- to stay longer, with limited success, but when she takes her leave the first thing Frostpine does is sit Kirel down. The boy is good, very good, and will someday be a fantastic smith in his own right. But he doesn't have the magic, not like Frostpine, and the older smith has been looking for years to find someone who does. But be that as it may Frostpine will not take another apprentice without informing the one he already has. It would be wrong, even outside of the agreement between master and apprentice; besides that, Frostpine would miss his dependable good cheer and ever constant desire to learn. It was the kind of attentionevery teacher craved, and the reason many were not keen on multiple students at a time.

But Kirel, bless his soul, is not a selfish person. The news that someone else has been found to be a smithing mage rouse excitement rather than jealousy. The younger man is thrilled to have another apprentice around, and Frostpine is quick to assure him that the younger man's training will not suffer for it. That earns him a fondly exasperated eyeroll, and a sarcastic inquiry as to whether they should braid each other's hair now or later.

Frostpine is still chuckling over it when he stops in the hub's kitchen, begging a bottle of good wine from Gorse before setting his steps toward Discipline. If he is going to steal of of Niko's students and Rosethorn' charges in one fell swoop, the least he can do is ease the way with  a decent bribe.


End file.
